


Say Something

by blairecray, revengeandotherdrugs



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Post-Reichenbach, Pre-Season/Series 03, Songfic, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blairecray/pseuds/blairecray, https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengeandotherdrugs/pseuds/revengeandotherdrugs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've forgotten the original publication date for this work but it was sometime in 2014. I have republished it because accidentally messed some stuff up, but everything has been corrected. Sorry for any confusion. Enjoy. -blairecray</p>
    </blockquote>





	Say Something

**Author's Note:**

> I've forgotten the original publication date for this work but it was sometime in 2014. I have republished it because accidentally messed some stuff up, but everything has been corrected. Sorry for any confusion. Enjoy. -blairecray

  John sits alone in the cemetery, as he usually does around that time of year. That time of year being Christmas.  
   Mary had left a month ago. He wasn't too fazed about it; He spent most of his time here anyways, so she wouldn't miss him much; it wasn't like there was much of him left to miss anyway.  
    John recalled a song that he heard on the way to the graveyard. _Say something I'm giving up on you._  John had to stop the car. He needed to pull over to the side of the lane to keep from losing himself. He leaned his head on the dashboard, sobs wracking through his body, fingers clenched, white knuckles around the steering wheel.

  He gets out of the car, it's that or go insane. He slams the door and leans against he side of the car, wiping his hands down his face and inhaling the cold air. It tastes of snow and metal and loneliness. From his car he has a straight view of the tombstone, rising black and cold against the steely sky. He begins to mumble the song at the vacant tombstone. wishing that he had more than the lyrics to a song to give his old friend.

  
     _say something I'm giving up on you_  
 _l'll be the one if you want me to_  
 _anywhere I would've followed you_  
 _say something I'm giving up on you_

  John sings through the tears that begin streaking down his face. Sherlock would've found it stupid and overly sentimental, his crying like this; but then he'd never really understood, had he.

  
_and I am feeling so small_   
_it was over my head_   
_I know nothing at all_

  
 His voice breaks.  
 _say something I'm giving up on you_

 

He chokes. And whispers

  
_I'm sorry I couldn't get to you_  

Perhaps if he'd gotten there sooner...   
He pulls out his handgun; fumbling in the glove compartment until he feels familiar metal against his searching fingers.

  
_anywhere I would've followed you_

He shouts. Cursing the frozen sky, gesturing like a madman, with his gun pointed in the air. 

  
**_SAY SOMETHING I'M GIVING UP ON YOU_ **

****

He falls to his knees. "I'm sorry" he whispers. He shakily puts the gun to his chest. The cold of the barrel through his clothes is comforting.  
"JOHN!!" He hears the shout, hears the familiar voice, vaguely hears his name and turns to see Sherlock. Sherlock... one last cruel trick of nature, the last laugh of a world that holds nothing for John Watson anymore.   
  John pulls the trigger.  The shot rings out over the cemetery, hanging like a knife in the cold air.

Sherlock stops dead, scrambling for John's body and gathering him in his arms. He's not aware, for once, there's only emptiness. "John, John..." he cradles John's head in his lap, closing the eyes, still open in death... and the worlds only consulting detective finishes the song.  

 

  
_and I will swallow my pride  
you're the one that I love and I'm saying goodbye_

 


End file.
